


Sameen Shaw

by waxwolf



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jane Eyre Fusion, Alternate Universe - Victorian, BDSM, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom!Root, F/F, Sub!Shaw, There's a little roll reversal in there too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxwolf/pseuds/waxwolf
Summary: I wanted to do a quick Victorian Era Shoot story. This is based off of Jane Eyre, but doesn't follow it exactly.





	1. Chapter 1

Shaw’s first couple weeks at Mr. Finch’s country home Thornhill are decidedly boring. It’s not that she misses the cold damp halls of Lowood, but at least the nightly scuffle over the warmest blanket kept a little excitement in her life. At Thornhill she feels as though every minute that passes by sinks her further into a thick fog of boredom. She rolls her eyes at her own pouting. She’s being an idiot. Cole would have killed to live here. Three square meals and plenty of wood to feed the fire aren’t gifts to be overlooked. She finishes washing up and gets ready for the day.

 

Gen’s lessons go well. Shaw pushes the girl more than she’s used to, getting into the advanced mathematical theory her previous governess didn’t seem to think was suitable. Gen had been frustrated at first with her inability to rattle off answers practically before Shaw finished asking the question, but she forgot her anger soon enough. When Shaw finishes up the day’s lesson, Gen heads outside with a handful of texts by Gauss, her new hero, to study study on the grass. It’s a nice enough day, so Shaw decides to follow her shortly, bringing along Bear to play some fetch before the sun goes down. It’s not long before Mr. Finch makes an appearance, accompanied by his ever present butler John, and a man Shaw has not met before.

 

“Ah, hello Miss Shaw. Might I introduce you to my colleague Mr. Greer.”

 

“Charmed.” Mr. Greer offers her a smarmy smile and bows politely. For some reason Shaw is struck with the sudden impulse to jab a fork into his eye. She’s not supposed to do that, though, and she doesn’t even have a fork on hand, so she performs a perfunctory curtsy instead.

 

“Uh, same.”

 

Mr. Finch’s lips tighten into a little frown, but she catches a twinkle in John’s eyes before he looks away.

 

“I see your penchant for taking in scamps off the street hasn’t changed, old friend.” Greer’s eyes glide over Shaw, and then John before returning to Mr. Finch. “I hope you have better luck taming this one.” Shaw suddenly feels a tingle at the back of her neck - she’s being watched. She whips around just in time to see a sliver of movement from one of the upper towers of Thornhill. It could have just been the curtain, but… but she’s sure it wasn’t. She’ll have to question Mr. Finch about this in morning when his loathsome friend is gone. He clears his throat.

 

“We will be taking supper in the study tonight while we discuss our latest findings.” He announces “Please accompany Gen in the dining room.”

 

“Not a problem.” This had happened a couple times before. Mr. Finch and some other electricity buff would hole up in the study late into the night, and she would be asked to keep Gen company for meals. It was awesome. Sure Gen would pester her with questions throughout the entire length of the meal, but instead of just lukewarm leftovers, she got to eat whatever and however much she wanted of the feast of the day. This time the dinner is a well seasoned rare steak with potatoes in a creamy sauce and chocolate cake for dessert. It’s well worth Gen’s interrogation about the Riemann hypothesis.

 

Shaw fully expected to sleep like the dead that night in her warm bed with her full belly, but she wakes with a start to the sounds of whispering and shuffling outside her door - something about Greer, and blood everywhere. She makes to get out of bed and investigate when a voice from the dark corner by her dresser stops her in her tracks.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sweetie.” A woman. Her voice is playful, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. She can just make out the shine of eyes and teeth in the darkness. Shaw reaches slowly for the knife stashed under her pillow, but before she can make her move the woman comes for her and a spark white like lightning comes from something in her hands - electricity. Shaw’s whole body feels like it’s scalded from the inside. Her muscles tense and shudder outside of her control. She can’t even open her mouth to speak. Through it all anger flares through her that this woman came into her room and incapacitated her so goddamn easily. A hand reaches behind her and draws the knife from its hiding spot while the woman hums in approval.

 

“Now.” A match flares to life and meets with her bedside candle. “Let’s get a better look at you.” The smugness in the woman’s voice makes Shaw want to throttle her. The candle allows itself to be taken by the flame, and the woman is illuminated. Her light brown hair falls over her shoulders as she leans over Shaw. Her mischievous eyes travel over Shaw’s body as a predatory grin spreads across her face - Shaw learned years ago that women aren’t supposed to look at women that way, and yet… Shaw lets her eyes drop down to the woman’s body. She’s wearing a tight fitting dress, and what breasts she has are struggling to escape the confines of her bodice. The dress also has splatter of blood neatly across her midsection. Shaw’s eyes shoot back up to the woman’s face in accusation, but she just smiles and waggles her eyebrows suggestively at Shaw.

 

“What can you tell me about Harry’s latest research into electricity?” Shaw experimentally works her jaw a little - the muscles have loosened enough for her to speak, but she’d still be shit warmed over in a fight.

 

“What are you going to do? Cut me up like that Greer guy?” This draws a little giggle from the woman.

 

“He got annoying. But I guess...” She starts toying with Shaw’s knife “if it’d help loosen those lips…” Her eyes drop deliberately to Shaw’s mouth, then return with a certain satisfaction to bore into her eyes. The candlelight glints off the knife as she twirls it around her fingers. Shaw feels a certain heat pooling deep inside her. She wishes it was anger and nothing more, but she knows herself better.

 

“Even if I did know anything, I wouldn’t tell you.” 

 

“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” The woman is trying to look apologetic, but Shaw can tell by the crinkling around her eyes that she’s positively delighted. “We’ll have to do this the hard way.” She stops playing with the knife and brings it slowly towards Shaw’s chest. She swallows thickly, and swears she hears a little catch in the woman’s breath.

 

“Samantha?... Samantha?” Finch’s voice calls from somewhere far down the hall. “Root?... I know you’re here somewhere” There’s a thread of fear to his calls, and the woman looks like someone just overcooked her steak.

 

“Root.” This time it’s John calling and he’s closer than Finch was. “Make no mistake, I am going to find you.”

 

The woman rolls her eyes and tucks Shaw’s knife into the sash of her dress. Shaw suddenly wonders who bothers to get dressed up in the middle of the night to slash someone. “Looks like our fun’s going to be cut short tonight, Shaw.” The woman grumbles. Shaw glares at her for knowing her name. “Another time.” She makes for Shaw’s door.

 

“Wait.” The woman turns back in surprise. “What’s your name? Samantha? Root?”

 

The woman gives her a genuine smile. “You can call me Root.” She winks at Shaw with both eyes and then pads away into the night.

 

By the time Shaw regains full control of her body, things have quieted down again. She finds John, but he’s being a little twit and won’t tell her what happened, just that “Mr. Greer had an accident,” “everything’s fine now,” she should “go back to bed,” and he’s never heard of a “Root” she must be mistaken. Useless. She sneaks up to first Greer’s room, then the tower she had seen the suspicious movement in during the day, but both are well guarded. Grumbling, she slips back into her room before anyone notices she’s not where she belongs. She curses Root’s name as she tosses in her bed, but her traiter lips twitch into a smile - this is the most alive she’s felt since she got here.

 

Greer is gone by the time Shaw gets up the next morning, and everyone is acting like things are perfectly normal. Gen clearly has no idea anything is amiss, either, judging by her oblivious reactions to the hints Shaw tosses her during their lesson. She’s going to have to be patient. Root will come back for her. 

 

The days, however, stretch into weeks, and Root has not returned. The tower room remains constantly guarded, and its windows have been boarded up - annoying. She tries to tease more information out of Mr. Finch, but he mistakes her attempts at polite interrogation as some kind of romantic interest, and begins stiffly courting her. This was not expected. All the waitstaff had lead her to believe he only had eyes for John. Though when she thinks about that, and the Rules she was taught regarding her own attractions, maybe Mr. Finch has all the more reason to marry someone like her (namely, a woman). She decides to avoid him for now, but takes his interest into consideration. The food is good here, and maybe if she sticks around she can find out more about Root. 

 

The weeks since the events turn into months. Every attempt to find out more about Root and what happened that night with Greer is rebuffed. The guards at the tower room door remain vigilant. The dullness of Thornhill during the day sinks into her again. She might have succumb entirely to flatness of it all, watched her life pass by like a slug in the road, if it weren’t for Root’s invasion of her dreams. Every night she wakes up sweaty and wanting, with fast fading visions of that damned woman haunting her mind. She gets up and searches every corner of her room, but Root is never there. After the whole of summer passes, Shaw decides enough is enough. She’s going to find a way to face Root again and give her a good talking to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the story is planned out, but this was a good stopping point and I wanted to get something out there for Shoot week. So look forward to chapter 2 soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly only going to write minimal smut, and finish this in 2 chapters, but then my hand slipped, so here's a whole chapter of smut instead. Whoops? There's some pain and choking stuff too, so in case you're not into this I'll post a non smutty summary at the end

A couple nights after she’s made up her mind to have her face to face with Root, Shaw is halfway up the side of the tower. It’s harder than it looks, and she’s struggling to find good handholds, but she sure as shit is not backing down now. The wind whips at her back as she digs her fingers into a crack in the stone and swings her leg up to hook over a gargoyle. Part of his ear jabs into her calf, but she does not cry out, as it might alert whoever is guarding the room. A few more fatigue filled minutes and she’s at the top, prying boards off the window with the hammer she stowed in the back of her breeches. It’s louder than she’d like, but the wind whipping through the trees covers most of her racket. Root is still fast asleep on a cot in the corner when Shaw drops down to the floor.

“Hey.” Shaw jabs at her with a finger. “Wake up.” She lights the candle on Root’s nightstand. Root whines and turns over, covering her face with her arms. Shaw grumbles and shakes her shoulder roughly. “I said get up!” she hisses. Root’s eyes slowly open and she peers at Shaw through her lashes.

“Oh.” She sits up and runs a hand through her tangled hair while failing to hold back a yawn. “It’s you.” She gives Shaw a warm sleepy smile.

“Yes, it’s me. Now will you please tell me what’s going on here? What are you doing up in this place?” Shaw waves her arm about to indicate the messy tower room strewn with papers, coiled bits of wire and a few devices Shaw has no recollection of. The wall opposite where she came in is also blackened with soot. Pyromaniac. Root leans forward and rests her chin innocently in her palm.

“No good morning kiss first?”

“It’s two hours from dawn, and your breath smells like ten kinds of ass.”

Root waggles her eyebrows and fishes a bottle of tooth powder out of the drawer in her bedside table. She proceeds to clean her teeth... suggestively? while eyeing Shaw. The nerve. Though at least her breath smells better now. An undertone of body odor still hangs in the air, but it’s not unpleasant - heady more like. Root finishes up and runs the tip of her tongue along the front of her newly cleaned teeth. Shaw tries not to squirm under her stare.

“If I… kiss you…” Shaw tries to sound as disgusted as possible, but judging by the smirk Root’s giving her, she’s not buying it. “Will you tell me what’s going on here?”

“That depends on how good of a kisser you are. Doesn’t it, Sameen?”

Shaw closes the distance between them with two quick steps and kisses Root roughly. Root pulls her onto the cot and deepens the kiss, exploring Shaw’s mouth with her tongue. Root flips her over onto her back, and wedges a knee firmly between her legs where things are rapidly heating up. She bites Shaw hard at the juncture of her neck and shoulder and sucks a little, surely leaving a mark.

“Nnng! Fuck, Root!” Root holds a finger up to her self-satisfied lips, tilting her head towards the guarded door, then returns to the scene of the crime to run her tongue over the mark she left. Shaw grinds up into her knee involuntarily. She can feel her self control slipping. Nope. Not yet. She has a mission. Root sucks an earlobe into her mouth and Shaw’s hips buck up again “Nn! Shitshitshit. Wait.” Root sits up and grins down at her. Her flushed face and heaving chest are a good look. Shaw tries not to think about it.

“Yes?” Shaw wriggles the rest of the way out from under her and sits up straight.

“What’s going on?” Root curls a messy lock of hair around her finger, and pretends to think it over for a minute.

“Harry doesn’t like me messing with his stuff.” Shaw glares at her and raises a single eyebrow. “We used to do research on electricity together. He’s a brilliant man, Harold Finch, but he is infuriatingly cautious. I wanted to… take our work in a different direction, and he found my ideas a touch alarming, so he locked me up here before I could ‘wreak havoc upon this good Earth.’” She smiles like it’s a funny joke.

Shaw wonders for a second how no one noticed; no one missed her. When she thinks about it, though, no one would miss her either if she disappeared tomorrow. “What about Greer? Do you make it a habit of torturing people?”

“No, not particularly. Honestly, I was just trying to scare him with the knife, but then the things he said to me, I got so angry, and I just… slipped?” She shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, I don’t really regret it.”

“You shouldn’t just hurt people like that.” 

“I bet you’d like it if I hurt you a little.” Shaw shifts a little under her gaze, and feels herself getting hot behind the ears. “Mmm, thought so. Well, I answered your questions.”

“...You did.”

“I think it’s time you answered one of mine.” Her voice drops and Shaw’s stomach does a little flip. “How much do you like this, Sameen?” Root reaches down and presses her thumb into the mark she left earlier at the base of Shaw’s neck. Shaw hears a whimper, and it’s weird because it’s not coming from Root.

“Uh… I guess I… don’t mind it.” Root pushes her down into the cot and holds her there, pressing even harder into the darkening bruise. The fingertips of her other hand lazily drift down Shaw's chest, brushing every so slightly over the tip of her nipple through her shirt. “Oh god.” It feels good. So good, and right. The fussy part of her that had been trying to fight it, and hold onto some kind of shred of dignity is being rapidly overwhelmed.

“Don’t mind?” 

“I like it.” Root gives the nipple an experimental roll, while she worms her thigh back between Shaw’s legs. “I fucking like it a lot.” 

Root smiles. “Good girl. Strip for me.” Shaw’s clothes hit the floor in record time, and she lays back on the bed, feeling like her whole body is aching for Root to touch her again. Root leans forward so that her lips just barely brush against Shaw’s.

“If you change your mind, though,” She wraps her hand gently around Shaw’s throat. “Just tap twice for me.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Root sucks in a shuddering breath and squeezes Shaw’s throat. At the same time deft fingers find their way to her center and start to lightly stroke her. Shaw almost comes right there, but she hangs on.

“Yea, you’re so good.” Root leans down and bites her hard over her right breast, leaving another blossoming mark behind. She gives the mark a gentle kiss before dipping her head lower to take Shaw’s aching nipple into her mouth. All the while stroking her, and tightening and relaxing her hold on Shaw’s neck. Shaw squirms wanting it, but also needing to wait for permission before letting loose the orgasm threatening to overtake her. “Good girl.”

“Root…” She’s practically whimpering. Even the feeling of Root’s nightdress fluttering over her belly is driving her forward right now. Two fingers enter her without warning, and Root’s other hand clamps down hard on her throat.

“Now, Sameen.”

Root releases her throat and curves the fingers inside her at the same time. Shaw’s whole body spasms as the orgasm rolls over her. She reaches out and pulls Root towards her, feels the slick heat of her riding on her leg. She bites down on Root’s neck to muffle her cries until the waves ride themselves out, until her muscles give out on her and she collapses into a puddle on Root’s bed. She clumsily motions Root to climb forward, and contentedly works her with her mouth until she stiffens in a silent cry, and flops over to join Shaw in a sated heap. They spend a couple minutes in comfortable silence before Root pipes up again.

“How long did you say it was until dawn?”

“Less than two hours, more than one.”

“Well then. Let’s not waste it.” She smiles and pulls off her nightdress as almost an afterthought.

Shaw lets loose a rare smile. She had been hoping Root might say that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In summary: Shaw scales Root's tower, Root has bad breath, but fixes it, Root tells her Finch locked her in the tower because she wanted to do potentially dangerous things with their combined electricity research, also that she cut Greer up because he was a dick, she wants to get back into her electricity stuff, and then they hook up a bunch.  
> Stay tuned for more plot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Longer than the other two, but I kinda like it. Hope you do too! Thanks for all the lovely comments :-)

There isn’t too much time left before the house starts waking itself up when Shaw climbs back out of Root’s window. The rush of cold wind in her face revitalizes her. While she balances precariously on the ledge of the window, Root helps her put the boards back in place. They stabilize them with a couple short nails, but both women are aware that Root could probably escape with a few well placed shoulder blows.

 

Shaw has scarcely been in her room for 2 minutes before 3 sharp knocks announce John’s presence outside her door. She wraps a shawl around her neck to hide any telltale marks before letting him in. He’s wearing a prune face.

 

“Mr. Finch would like to invite you to breakfast this morning.”

 

“Sure. Give me a minute to change.” He takes in her outfit and is momentarily surprised out of his brooding.

 

“Breeches? Were you planning on riding this morning?”

 

“Yea.” He did half the work of that lie for her. Amateur.

 

“Okay. Well, maybe another time. Breakfast is in 10 minutes... Maybe do something about your hair?” Shaw glares at him. “It just looks a little… windblown.” She rolls her eyes.

 

“Fine.” She takes a brush out and runs it through a few times. “Happy?” He shakes his head, but can’t help cracking a little smile.

 

“I... hope you enjoy your breakfast.” He closes the door gently behind him.

 

After a tasty breakfast of eggs, sausage, tomatoes, beans, and toast Mr. Finch asks Shaw to join him for a turn around the garden. She’s in a good mood and there’s no more food left, so she figures why not. They’re not far from the house when Mr. Finch stops suddenly and turns to her.

 

“Miss Shaw, I would like for you to marry me.” Great. This.

 

“Why?” His eyes bug out a bit, but he recovers himself.

 

“You do so well with Gen, and I myself am… quite fond of you.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Shaw looks back to the house and can see John watching them stoically from afar.

 

“I don’t want to have sex with you.”

 

“What?” His face flashes with alarm and certain degree of ick.

 

“If we get married, I don’t want to have sex with you, and I want to be able to have sex with whoever else I want, whenever I want.” She pauses to think for a second “And I want to decide what we eat.”

 

“Oh well.” He glances sheepishly in John’s direction. “I suppose that would be acceptable. I will stay out of your… sexual affairs, and I suppose you’d do the same for me?”

 

“Yea, definitely.”

 

“Alright, then. I’ll start making arrangements. Unless you want to…?”

 

“No, go ahead.”

 

“Excellent.” He exhales and gives her a real smile. “Thank you Miss. Shaw. Or shall I say Sameen?”

 

“No. Shaw.”

 

“Miss Shaw.” He nods. “I’ll be in my study most the rest of the day, you are welcome to join me for supper.”

 

“See you then.” They walk back to the house together and then split off - Finch heading to his study, Shaw to the room set up for Gen’s tutoring.

 

They fall into a pattern of taking meals together: Finch makes occasional polite conversation, John stays strong and mostly silent by his side, Shaw eats as much as her stomach will allow. The rest of the days go by much as they did before for her: teaching Gen and planning out future lessons. She doesn’t get stuck in the boredom, though, as during the days, she anticipates the nights.

 

Almost every night she sneaks up to Root’s tower for further interrogations - hot, sweaty, mind-blowing interrogations. She learns about some of the destructive potential of electricity, and though she doesn’t agree with it, she can now see why Finch might want Root locked up in that place. Root, to her credit, gets a few tidbits out of Shaw about some of Finch’s more harmless projects. From what Shaw understands, there’s nothing in the information she gives up that Root can use to foster chaos and destruction, and the way her face lights up with any news from outside her room makes it well worth the small betrayal to Finch for Shaw. There are other rewards as well. The night she shares some of Finch and Mr. Faraday’s dinner conversation she’s barely able to walk, let alone climb down the tower, and Root has to lower her down most of the way with knotted together bedding. If Root ever so much as mentions it again, Shaw swears she’ll lay bricks over her windows and never even glance at the tower again. That night as she drifts off to sleep, she seriously considers trying to convince Finch to have the guards removed. Ultimately, though, she decides against it, as Root and her had previously agreed it would attract too much suspicion. She also kind of likes the workout scaling the tower gives her.

 

It’s not been three weeks since his proposal when Finch asks if the following Friday works for Shaw as a wedding date.

 

“Yea, that’s fine.”

 

“Would you like me to invite anyone?”

 

“No.”

 

“Certainly there must be someone-”

 

“I kind of just want to get it over with. No fuss, no muss.”

 

“If you insist… I’ll have a few family members and colleagues present.”

 

“Whatever. I’ll see you at supper.” She turns to go before the conversation gets any more personal. She’d briefly considered asking him to invite Root, just to see how big his eyes would get, but she’s already decided it’d be best to play a long game on getting Root out of the tower. Revealing she even knows who she is would not go well at this point. As for why she hasn’t mentioned the engagement to Root… She’s less sure about her reasons surrounding that. It just doesn’t sound like a good idea. So when Root shows up in her room the night before the wedding wearing her wedding dress, it’s pretty unexpected.

 

“Wanna christen this with me?” Shaw takes in the cut on Root’s bicep and tsks her. Stupid gargoyle.

 

“You shouldn’t have broken out of your little jail just for this.” She climbs out of bed and fishes her first aid kit out from under it.

 

“I wasn’t invited to your bachelorette?”

 

“My what?”

 

“Nothing.” Root pouts and offers Shaw her arm. She silently fidgets with a section of Shaw’s dress while Shaw dabs at her wound with a clean damp cloth.

 

“What is it?” Shaw grumbles as she finishes wrapping Root’s arm. She honestly doesn’t care, but Root will feel better once she’s gotten whatever she’s holding in out in the open.

 

“It’s just that… Harry might not be the best husband.”

 

“He offered a pretty sweet deal. And to be honest” Shaw’s not sure why she’s being honest “if it ends up sucking-” Root makes a face “You’re like a 12 year old boy! If it ends up… not to my liking, I’ll leave.”

 

“So you know, I expect a goodbye fuck before any disappearing into the night.” Shaw eyes her cautiously. She had thought she’d made herself clear before, and that sounded a lot like a commitment to her. But Root’s face is relaxed and far from serious. Shaw rolls her eyes and shoves Root onto her bed.

 

“That depends on how good you are.” Root squeaks in surprise, and Shaw pounces on her before she has a chance to right herself. “Can you be good for me tonight?” Root freezes for a split second, but quickly composes herself.

 

“Anything for you, Sweetie.”

 

She’s a bit stiff and awkward at first, lying on her back, following Shaw’s commands, but Shaw takes it slow. Not an hour’s gone by and she’s pliant, shining with sweat, and deliciously verbal.

 

“Shaw… Sameen. Please. God, I need you.” Shaw lets it wash over her. Dominating sexually isn’t usually her game, but tonight, with Root, it’s doing it for her. She wants Root to feel so good that it hurts.

 

“Almost.” She leaves a fresh bite mark under Root’s breast. That makes 25. A perfect square. Root’s too strung out right now to appreciate that, but she will later. She smiles and sucks Root’s nipple into her mouth again while idly fingering her. Root moans shamelessly and squirms around trying to get more friction. “I said almost!” Shaw pulls out and spreads Root’s thighs apart. Root whines at the loss, but abruptly stops when Shaw takes her into her mouth.

 

“Oh! Ohhh. Shaw I’m--” She stiffens, trying her best not to come.

 

“Yea Root. Come for me.” Shaw sucks, and Root comes - thighs clamping onto Shaw’s head so hard, she feels like she’s never going to get it back. But she’s fine with that right now. It’s completely worth it. A few breath catching minutes later, Shaw starts to wonder if she should try to sit on her face or something, but before she can make up her mind Root springs up, flips her over, and fucks her into literal oblivion.

 

When she wakes up it’s her wedding day, and Root’s long gone. A giddy young maid who doesn’t know her very well brings her her breakfast and asks if she wants any help getting ready for her “Day.” She accepts the food, but shoos the girl out before any kind of help can be accomplished. After breakfast, she washes up, braids her hair into something wedding passable, and throws on the dress. She nods with satisfaction to find it covers all her marks.

 

Game time.

 

The priest drones on about something or other and Shaw carefully balances on one foot to scratch an itch on her calf with her toe. It’s boring and it’s taking forever. Luckily, Greer breaks the monotony by suddenly popping up from the crowd. He’s got a little scar on his face. Shaw smiles.

 

“Excuse me, but I’m afraid I have to interrupt you, father.” Chairs creak as the murmuring guests turn to watch him. “These two cannot marry, because” He pauses until the room has fallen completely silent “Mr. Finch is already married to another.” This is unexpected. Several people gasp. “Root.” What. No. This is bullshit. Shaw whips around to look at Finch. He is the picture of guilt - eyes bulging, red face, lips moving wordlessly.

 

“For fuck’s sake.” Shaw hikes up her dress and hightails it out of there. The gall of them - both of them! Finch married Root, then locked her up in a tower? THEN tried to marry her too! And Root! All the time they spent playing footsie while catching their breath together. She couldn’t have mentioned it once?! ‘By the way, Shaw, I’m married to your boss.’ ‘Thank you for letting me know, Root. Now I won’t marry him too.’ Would that have been so hard? Fuck both of them. She storms into her room, changes out of the dress, gathers her things, and heads the fuck out.

 

She lives rough for a couple weeks, and it sucks, but then out of the blue, some long lost rich uncle shows up and whisks her away. Where the fuck was this guy when she was freezing her ass off in Lowood? Life gets better again. She has food and comfort, uncle Hersh doesn’t pester her for conversation, she even finds a couple random men to fuck. And yet… her brain betrays her.

 

She keeps thinking about Root. Stupid Root up in that goddamn tower. Root with her face, and her hands, and her legs, and her mouth... Shaw decides what she needs is to go back and tell her off. How else will she know how much she pissed Shaw off? Shaw scrawls out a quick note to Hersh, saddles up, and rides back to Thornhill. She arrives purposefully in the middle of the night, so as not to have to deal with Finch. The moon is near full, though, and it’s not long before she realizes Thornhill has been reduced to rubble and ash. There’s still a light trace of smoke in the air, but whatever raging fire was the cause of this is long gone. Shaw soothes her horse and trots it around the perimeter of the wreckage until she finds a lean-to set up by one of her favorite trees. The fire next to it is getting close to dying, so she feeds it one of the dry logs set up nearby. She pokes her head in and isn’t even surprised when she sees who’s curled up in there.

 

“Hey, Root.” Root burrows farther into her pile of leaves. “Come. On. Get. Up!” Shaw crawls in and shakes Root until her eyes open blearily.

 

“Shaw.” She smiles, and the unguarded warmth of it makes Shaw feel a little tug in her chest. It’s probably indigestion. “You came back.”

 

“Yea, well… What happened?”

 

“Oh that. I was pretty upset when I found out the wedding. So” She shrugs. “You know.” Shaw isn’t sure who’s more unbelievable - Root for burning down a mansion because she was pissed off, or her for being kind of turned on by that. “I probably should have told you about the whole married to Harry thing. It was just so embarrassing... He’s fine, by the way. A little singed, but fine. John dashed him away to safety. They’re probably off in one of his other mansions - I doubt they’ll come back here. Come to think of it pretty much everyone's fine... except for Greg... Greg's missing an arm now. Yea, he was guarding my door a bit too closely.”

 

“Uh huh.” Shaw stares at her blankly.

 

“Let me make it up to you?”

 

“... You can try.”

 

Later, while she’s peeling dead leaves off her back by the roaring fire, Root regales her with tales of how she’s going to rebuild Thornhill better than ever with wires threaded through all of her walls. There’s also talks of electrical booby traps to thwart unwanted guests. It sounds awesome.

 

“It’ll take a little while to build up the capital, of course, but I have a few new inventions that are sure to sell well.”

 

“I could fund it.” Root looks at her like she grew another nose. Shaw smirks. “There was an inheritance I didn’t know about... I want a gym, a bigger kitchen, and a sex dungeon.”

 

“Done!” Root immediately starts rattling off the different ways she could incorporate electricity into these parts of the house. Such a nerd! Shaw shakes her head in disbelief, but Root just smiles at her, and goddamn it she can’t help but smile back.


End file.
